


A Second Chance

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Gay, Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Slow Burn, Swearing, anyone else heartbroken over timmothee chalamet, do people even read tags, fixing grimmlaud place idk, if youre reading this please comment and tell me that you did, im bad at tags sorry, just so i know to put some actual effort into them, ok ill stop now, someone please teach me how to do tags, stan harry styles, stream fine line, vote for the album on the billboards award website
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24956515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: read to find out bitchi dare you
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Regulus Black/Severus Snape(past), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 18





	1. The Mark

**Author's Note:**

> ive written a few chapters in advance which is why there's a few up all at once.

“Draco Malfoy, step forward.” 

The Dark Lord’s voice crooned through dungeons of the manor, drilling away into his ears. If someone told him two years ago that he would be in this position, he would laugh in their face. 

“I said step forward!” 

Greyback shoved him forward. The Dark Lord started talking, and he was pretty sure it was a joke at his expense. From the corner of his eye, he could see his mother’s eyes well up with tears. He wondered what his father would’ve done. 

His gaze moved forward and fell upon the man standing behind the Dark Lord. Draco considered Snape more of a father than he ever did Lucius.

“Look at me when I talk,” the Dark Lord was angry once again. 

Draco lifted his eyes ever so slightly and stared into the red irises of his face. 

“It does no good making you one of us. You’re worthless. Although, you’d make a nice treat for Nagini,” he reached forward and dug his fingers into Draco’s chin, “I heard one of Fenrir’s friends was looking for a special someone to… _play_ with.” 

Narcissa let out a broken sob. Snape resisted the urge to step to the side and console the woman. 

“Someone get her out of here, eh? She’s starting to get on my nerves,” he waved his hand as if he were shooing away an insect, “I’d reckon she has three weeks before she starts going mad. Four if her spawn manages to last a week into this.” 

He could almost feel the disappointment of his ancestors. 

“Give me your arm.” 

Draco mustered up enough dignity for himself and his mother. 

“Do you swear on your life, bloodline, and purity that you will stay loyal to me and our brothers?” 

“Yes.” 

He dug his nails into Draco’s arm, “Swear it!” 

“I swear!” 

Chuckles passed through the room again. Bellatrix cackled as she stroked the top of Nagini’s head. Somewhere in the manor, Narcissa Malfoy cried. 

“Will you, under any circumstance, be prepared to give your life for the betterment of the future of our brothers?” 

“Yes.”

“You will consider me your lord, Draco Malfoy. I am stronger, smarter, and will _always_ come on top. You will never best me. You will never be able to hide anything from me. I am the strongest wizard of the century. I am the Dark Lord, and you will treat me as such,” He stared at Draco for a moment, as if he was expecting him to run or hide. 

Draco did nothing. He said nothing. He refused to give any reaction to the man standing before him. He said nothing as the Dark Lord poked his wand into Draco’s arm. He said nothing as the Dark Lord muttered the spell. The spell that would forever bind Draco to darkness. 

Draco did nothing as the searing hot ink burned into him and stained the pale skin on his body. Draco said nothing as his tearful mother came to embrace him that night. Draco did nothing as the Dark Lord sent crucio after crucio his way, looking for a reaction to feed into his ego. There was nothing to say. Nothing to prove. Draco had already lost the battle. 

However, Severus Snape and one Albus Dumbledore could give him a second chance.


	2. Post Mark

Draco had been forced to be an alleged Death Eater at the start of summer after his fifth year. He wasn’t even sixteen, which was the starting age to join. No one wanted him in it in the first place. The others thought he was too young, too naive and inexperienced to be able to do anything properly. His mother was obviously devastated. She had a husband in Azkaban and a son stuck dealing with a suicide mission. 

Severus was furious with the decision. He’d lived through being a Death Eater at a young age, sure. However, it was different then. It could even be classified as a fad. A trend, really. It started with adult purebloods joining the dark forces. They started fighting for a delusional promise of a wizarding world rid of muggle-borns. Little by little, their teenage children started joining. Of course, most of them were in Slytherin. 

Severus’s mother was not a Death Eater, but she had started to gain a twisted look on muggles after how she was treated by her husband. Snape’s father had acted terribly when he had found out about magic. Eileen kicked him out, of course. She had him obliviated immediately after the divorce and raised Severus herself. Everything added up in the end and she had encouraged Severus to join the group with his ‘friends’ in Slytherin. 

Dumbledore sought him out after catching wind of Voldemort’s plan to kill Harry Potter. He promised him a teaching job in potions, a better life, and a way to keep himself out of Azkaban. In return, he wanted Severus’s loyalty. Snape didn’t want all this torture that Draco had been going through to be for nothing. No one deserved this, especially not his godson. 

“Draco,” Severus walked into Draco’s room. 

Narcissa was sitting with him on his bed, caressing the top of his head. Her face was still wet from tears and her eyes were rimmed with red. She looked tired, almost defeated. 

“How’s the pain? You seem to be handling it better than I did when I was your age.” Snape wasn’t good at this. Comforting, that is. Yet, he’d been doing a lot of it lately. 

His godson looked up at him with the most heartbreaking expression on his face. Snape almost burst into tears. Almost. 

“It’s alright I guess. It’ll probably hurt more later when this all sinks in,” He looked down again, “When it all sinks in.” 

“I wanted to speak with you on a matter. A matter that we cannot discuss here. Narcissa?” 

She looked at him with that calculating stare of hers. The one that could make even the truthful person doubt themselves, “I suppose it’d be best for him, yes?” 

Severus nodded, “Draco, come with me.” 

The two of them apparated to the brick house on Spinner’s End Street. Severus had lived here since he was a young boy. It was his mother’s house and he’d inherited it when she had died. He could afford much better, but it felt nicer holding on to a little bit of the past. 

“Wine? I have some Firewhisky, though it’s a bit strong for my liking,” Snape took off his cloak and hung it on the dingy old coat holder that had seen better days. 

Draco raised an eyebrow, “I’m not old enough, Uncle Severus.”

“You and I both know you’ve been drunk before. I wasn’t born yesterday, Draco.”

The boy laughed, “I’ll have wine.”

“Zimsey?”

The house-elf appeared, “Yes, Master Snape?” 

“Get me two glasses of that wine, the one I got last week.” 

“Yes, master.”

“Sit, Draco. We have much to discuss.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, this chapter is super short but I had to get it out of the way so I guess deal with it


	3. Number 12 Grimmauld Place

Snape’s house had a nicer feel than his own manor had lately. It was more familiar. He’d been here often as a child, whenever his parents were on trips and they couldn’t find a babysitter. It wasn’t big, a tad small really. The living room had a small bookshelf overflowing with several potions manuals, many of which Draco used as a child. A battered, green velvet couch that had been there since what seemed like the beginning of time sat in near the windows. Though, it had to be the most comfortable couch he’d ever sat on. The rugs were all either rolled up, probably to make room for more books and brewing space or were living their last days. 

“Whatever I tell you in this room must stay between us and your mother, understand?” 

Draco nodded, “What about father?” 

“He is useless.” 

There was that word again. ‘Useless.’ 

“Draco, your mother and I are not on the Dark Lord’s side. We are fighting against him, both of us acting as spies for Dumbledore,” Snape sipped his drink, “I’ve been feeding the information that the Dark Lord gives me to the Order.” 

Draco can’t say he didn’t see this coming. He’d always known that his mother had always disagreed with Voldemort, even more so after his father had been put in Azkaban. Snape, on the other hand, came more as a shock. They’d never discussed the war together, one of them always changing the subject when it was brought up. 

“For how long? How has father not found out?” 

“Fifteen years. As for your father… Let’s just say he isn’t the most observant of others.” 

“ _ Fifteen _ ? How have you survived this long? Surely the Dark Lord would've found out by now,” Draco winced as he moved his left arm a little too quickly.

“Relax your movements, your arm is going to hurt more.” 

“Fuck the arm, how did you hide this from you-know-who?” He made a big show of sliding back into the couch. 

“Draco, you are aware of my skills in Occlumency and Legilimency. It’s easy to hide things within your mind from anyone forcing themselves in. Which is why,” Snape finished his wine and set the glass on the table, “You will be spending your summer mastering the art of protecting your thoughts. Of course, only if you agree to become a spy like your mother and me.” 

“I’ll be working for Dumbledore?”

“Not just for Dumbledore. You’d be working toward the betterment for the entire Wizarding World. For the greater good.” 

Draco stayed quiet for a moment, trying to comprehend everything. Should he agree? Obviously this means he’d have to work with Potter and his obnoxious friends. And his mother, how could he let her do something so dangerous by herself, how could he just stand there and let all of it happen without doing anything to help? Even if it meant deceiving the evilest wizard that has ever lived. 

“Alright, I’ll do it.” 

Snape nodded and studied him for a moment. It pained him to see another innocent child being forced to fight in a war that he had no part in. It reminded Severus a little too much of one Regulus Black. 

“I’ll let your mother know. For now, you can—”

“—What do you mean? Why can’t I tell her myself?” Draco cut him off. 

Snape sighed, “You know of our intentions now, it’s not safe for you to return back until you can do basic occlumency.”

“When will I be able to see her again? She’s on house arrest, it’ll be ages before I’ll be able to see her! Who knows what they’ll do to her.” He’d heard the awful things Greyback and his pack said about her behind their backs.

“Your mother can defend herself. Besides, I’ll be there. I promise Draco, no harm will come to your mother under my watch.” 

“Where am I supposed to stay?” Draco was a lot bigger now than he was a child which meant he couldn’t just stay in Snape’s one-person house. 

“You’ll see.” 

The two of them arrived outside two large townhouses. The numbers on the houses seemed to skip number twelve. Snape cast a Patronus that drifted towards the two houses then disappeared between them. Just a few moments later, the two houses moved apart, revealing the missing townhouse. 

“Draco, this is number twelve, Grimmauld Place.” 

Just judging from the outside of the house Draco was already worried. One of the outdoor porch lights were flickering, the other not working at all. Scraps of paint were missing from the door giving it an ominous look. The rods on the railings were bent and out of shape, almost like someone had done it on purpose. 

“You’re going to leave me in this shack?” 

“It’ll only be for a little while, Draco. You’re a quick learner. Besides, we need more help fixing the inside.” 

“Who’s we?” 

Just then, almost as an answer to his question, a voice called from the doorway. “Severus? Is that you?” 

No. Don’t let it be who Draco thought it was. No, no, n

Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Yes, Molly. Would you like the whole neighborhood to hear as well? Maybe even the next three towns?” 

Of course, as a cruel prank from the Universe, Draco would have to deal with no one other than the Weasleys and whoever else was inside that wretched house. 

“I wouldn’t have to ask if you weren’t standing outside waiting for anyone to attack you!” 

  
  


Draco’s assumptions about number 12 Grimmauld Place were, once again, correct. Not only did entering the building cause a massive portrait of Walburga Black to start shrieking,  _ but Sirius Black  _ of all people came to shut her up. The convicted felon. The one that tried murdering Scarface. 

Though, Draco would be a little bit happier if Potter was dead. 

Stifling a shriek of his own, he turned his attention to his godfather. 

“Stop glaring at me, I would never choose this,” Snape said as he rubbed his temples. 

Draco took two deep breaths and then spoke, “First things first. I’m assuming Sirius Black didn’t in fact cause the death of James and Lily Potter, yes?”

All three people in the room nodded. 

“Excellent. Am I allowed to ask why there’s a shrieking portrait of Walburga Black in the living room?”

“We’ve tried everything to get her down but no pure blood here has been able to,” Sirius answered, closing the curtains in front of the painting, “The Weasleys are blood traitors, Snape’s a half-blood, and we aren’t related to anyone else.” 

“How hasn’t it worked for you? You’re literally her son.” 

“She removed his face from the family tree,” Snape said, inspecting the dust collecting on the walls, “Wait a minute, you haven’t betrayed your bloodline yet.”

Severus dragged him over to the portrait, “Please, Merlin let this work. Draco, try taking the portrait of the wall.” 

This was all happening so fast. None of what was occurring was making sense to him. Everything was going in one ear and out the other. 

“Stop! For fucks sake, everyone just shut up and tell what the fuck has been going on!” 

“You already know about Sirius what else—” 

Draco interrupted Snape again, “I don’t give a fuck about Sirius. What I want to know, is why we’re here, why there’s a fucking screaming portrait on the wall, why are the Weasleys here, and why is the house so goddamn dirty?” 

He took another breath, “Slowly, please.” 

Severus looked at him for a moment, “Alright. The portrait can wait. We can discuss this over dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all are in for a ride that's for sure. thank you for commenting on the last chapter! don't be shy, comment some more... I love hearing what you guys think <3


	4. Kreacher

Dinner passed quickly as did the story. There were six different people telling him about six different things at once, which made it impossible to concentrate. In the end, Draco probably learned about three new things. At least it was something to work with. 

“Do you understand now, Draco?” Sirius finished his firewhiskey. 

“Yes,” he lied. 

Sirius grinned and got up, “Alright. Now that that’s out of the way, we need you to take off that obnoxious portrait.” 

Draco was not able to remove the portrait. 

“You never know, it might be useful,” he said, “Maybe she knows something that could help us.” 

Sirius sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, “In our dreams. Speaking of dreams, you’re probably exhausted. Why are you still awake?” 

“My sleep schedule is messed up because of the Death Eater meetings. I don’t usually sleep until six or seven A.M,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I usually sleep during the day. Wake up around four or six P.M.” 

Sirius laughed, “It’s going to be a bitch when you have to go back to school.” 

Draco sighed, “Yeah. I’m not thinking about that right now.” 

“Well, I’m going to go bed, have fun dealing with all of this,” Sirius gestured around the room, “Don’t ask for any help, I’ll be sleeping.” 

Draco walked towards the living room and looked around, the lighting was dim but he could make out most of the bigger objects. The curtains had tears going up and down the fabric, the color a mysterious brown. The paint on the walls was chipping and there were already piles of it collecting on the floor. There were multiple stains on the ceiling which probably came from a broken pipe in one of the bathrooms on the second floor (that was what he hoped it was from). The couches looked pretty okay, but he could make out a nest of what were probably doxies tucked away behind one of the cushions. It’d probably take half the summer to clean the whole place. Why did Snape have to leave him in a rubbish bin like this?

Draco spent most of the night walking around the house until he made his way into the kitchen. One of the cupboards was slightly open and he almost screamed when it shrieked as he closed it. 

“My precious treasures, not my treasures! Stay away, stay away!” 

“What the fuck?” 

He opened the cabinet to reveal a green wrinkly excuse for a house-elf.   
The thing stopped blubbering and stared at him for a moment before jumping from the cabinet and landing down at his feet. 

“F-forgive me!” 

“Forgive you? For what?” 

“Oh,” The house-elf kneeled and started kissing Draco’s shoes, “I have yelled at a Malfoy! The purest of purebloods, oh forgive me, master! Forgive me!” 

He looked down at the thing in disgust, “Get off me!” 

The elf backed away and jumped back onto the counter, “Oh, master. What is you doing here? This place is filled with blood traitors! Oh if mistress Black knew of what had become of her manor...” The elf started to cry again. 

“Shut up, shut up! Stop crying!” 

The elf sniffled.

“What is your name?” 

“M-My name is Kreacher, master Draco. I is of your service,” The elf bowed down until it’s large nose touched the surface of the counter. 

“Why haven’t you cleaned the house? What kind of house-elf leaves the place so dirty?”

“I spend my days looking for the treasures to keep them clean, master.”

“Treasures? What treasures?” 

The elf crawled back into his nest and revealed whatever he was hiding. 

“Kreacher, why do you have all these heirlooms?” 

“No one be taking care of them, sir.”

There were probably over fifty different heirlooms belonging to the Black family inside the cupboard. He could see multiple different rings meant to be worn by family members, expensive pieces of fine china, wand decorations, necklaces, watches, you name it. 

“Kreacher, how long have you been collecting these things?” 

“Oh Kreacher doesn’t know, sir. Ever since the night that- that,” Kreacher started to hyperventilate again. 

“Alright, alright, forget I asked!”

It was clear that Kreacher was depressed. To be honest, Draco didn’t know what could make a house-elf depressed. He always assumed that cleaning was the only thing they thought about. 

“Kreacher, why don’t you clean the living room for me?” 

“Why, master Draco. There be no point, sir. No one be living here.” 

“There are people living here right now. How would you think Walburga would feel knowing her guests were living in these filthy conditions.” 

The elf gave him a calculating stare, “I don’t know, sir… How would mistress Black feel?”

“I know what she would be thinking, Kreacher. She’d be disappointed and  _ very  _ angry. A  _ Malfoy  _ having to stay in place looking like this? Malfoys deserve to be treated like kings, Kreacher. Show me what you can do. Maybe I’ll forgive you for yelling at me.”

“You is right, master. But, I must ask for something in return…”

“Something in return? In return for what? Cleaning is your job.” What type of house-elf asks for something in return?

“You see, master. Kreacher is old now, my back be hurting. Cleaning be taking lots of energy, Kreacher can’ts do it for free.”  
“Alright, how much do you have in mind?” Draco reached for the sack where he kept his money. 

“Not money, sir. Kreacher be looking for items to add to his treasures.” 

“Items to add to your collection? Kreacher, I’m a Malfoy, I don’t have anything that belongs to the Black family.”

“Master Draco, your mother be being a Black. Oh mistress Narcissa, to have anything that once belonged to her,” The elf’s eyes starting filling up with tears for what felt like the hundredth time. 

Draco thought of anything he could give the elf. The only thing he owned remotely part of the Black family was the silver chain with a pendant he wore around his neck. It was in the shape of the moon, the symbol of the House of Black. His mother had given it to him when he was six or seven. She had told him that it helped her feel safe as a child and it would do the same to him. He couldn’t give it to the elf, it was too sentimental. 

“Kreacher, my mother hasn’t given me anything that belongs to the Black family.”

“Master, there must be something you can give me...” The elf looked at him greedily, “You have the blood of a Black in your veins, sir. I can make exceptions for anything Malfoy.”

The audacity of this elf! Why is it being so difficult?

“Kreacher, there is one thing I can give you. But you need to clean the living room first.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Kreacher leaped from the counter and ran towards the living room. Fifteen minutes later, he returned looking sweaty and even more disgusting than before. 

“Master, I have finished.” 

Draco followed him to the living room. It almost looked like the entire place had been torn out and rebuilt. The doxie nest in the couches were gone, the lighting was brighter and the curtains replaced with ones that were a handsome red color. The paint on the walls was redone, and the tattered old carpet looked like it was just bought. There were new decorations hanging on the walls, and there was a candle on the coffee table in the center of the room. It smelled pleasant, like vanilla and Butterbeer. 

“Wow, Kreacher! This is great,” Draco sat down on one of the couches. 

“Kreacher has had many years of practice, sir. But, our deal…?” 

Draco sighed and pulled out a ring with the Malfoy crest on it. 

“Take this, Kreacher.” 

The elf leaped with joy and snatched the ring, “You are so kind, sir! Thank you.”

“Yes, yes. But that is a Malfoy ring, meaning it’s worth more than anything you’ve ever touched. I’m not giving you anything ever again, understand?” 

The elf nodded enthusiastically. 

“Alright, you’ve been dismissed.” 

Draco snorted as the elf ran off. The ring was meant to be given to those who’ve wronged the Malfoy family. Anyone who wore it would be given a painful headache or any mild inconvenience that would ruin their day. 

If only everyone in this house was as dumb as that elf. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! you all are honestly so kind, I love you all so much!! i love reading your comments they're the highlight of my day! love you so much <3


	5. Dinner

Draco was just getting ready for bed when Ronald came down for breakfast. 

“Bloody hell, Malfoy! What are you doing here?” His eyebrows had gone up so high they were almost under his hair. 

Draco stared at him for a moment, “Have they really not told you?” 

“Told us what? And what happened to the living room?” 

“That I’m staying here for the summer. Well, partly until I get better at occlumency. As for the living room, you’re welcome.”

The rest of the Order started waking up and coming downstairs. Probably because of Ron’s ruckus and because the portrait had started screaming again. 

“What happened here?” Sirius came in holding a cup of coffee. 

“I got Kreacher to clean the living room, bribed him into it.” 

“How did he listen to you? He’s been ignoring everyone who tries talking to him,” Mrs. Weasley said. 

“I found him hiding all the Black family heirlooms and just asked him. Told him something random about my family and he believed it. I ended up having to give him a ring with the Malfoy crest on it though,” Draco yawned, “Well I’m heading to bed. Have a nice day.”

Draco awoke to Walburga shrieking again around six PM. He got out of bed and got ready, moving as slow so he didn’t have to see everyone sooner. He’d only met a few people from the Order but he wasn’t excited to meet the others. 

“Malfoy?” 

A voice called from the entrance of the room. 

Draco whirled around, wand already in hand, “What do you wan— Oh, it’s just you.” 

Ginny Weasley stood outside the room, looking tentative, but confident. 

“Er, sorry to barge in,” she said awkwardly. 

Draco looked down and realized the front of his shirt was still unbuttoned. He started to fasten the first one before the pain in his left arm seared up again and forced him to stop. 

“Fuck,” he hissed out under his breath. 

Ginny didn’t hear and continued her sentence, “I was just coming up here to wake you up. You’ve been sleeping all day!”

Draco shrugged, “Yeah, my sleep schedule’s a bit messed up. Has Severus arrived? He needs to give me some supplies.” 

“Yeah, he dropped off a bag a few hours ago, better get to it quick, Fred and George might’ve already started to look through it.” With that, she turned and left the room. 

Fortunately, the twins had not looked through the bag, but Draco could tell that they were still itching to grab it. It bothered him quite a bit. 

“Can I help you?” 

They looked a little surprised to be called out but there was still amusement in their eyes. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact, you can,” Fred got up and walked towards him. 

“Both of us have been wondering about that bag of yours,” George stood up beside him, “Is it something important?’

“Or something stupid?”

“Or something rare?”

“Is it expensive?” 

“It probably is, Fred! He’s a Malfoy of course.”

Draco frowned, “It’s just some supplies for healing. All the crucios start to take a toll after the meetings. It’s just some things to make the pain less unbearable, that’s all.” 

The amusement died from the twin’s eyes. 

“They use the crucio on you?” George asked.

“Not just crucios of course, there’s obviously more things they use to torture. The crucio is just the easiest, I guess.” Have they not told them anything? 

An uncomfortable silence set over the three of them while Draco pretended to act interested in the contents of the bag. Thankfully, one of the adults had called everyone down for dinner. Draco had a slight suspicion that they didn’t know he had taken the Dark Mark yesterday. Although, they’d probably find out now since it was way too painful for him to do anything with his left arm. 

He groaned internally when Ginny and her mother brought out plates of steak and various other foods. He’d been hoping for something easier to eat, like soup. He was also vegetarian, which gave him a better reason than ‘My left arm is hurting.’

“I would’ve made more for all of you, but the kitchen is awful. We’ll have to work on that tomorrow,” Mrs. Weasley said, “But that’s not important right now. Eat up!” 

She scooped mashed potatoes and steak onto everyone’s plates but hesitated for a moment when she got to Draco. He watched a series of emotions pass through her eyes before her hand moved to the steak to serve him. 

“Wait, don’t give me the steak, I’m vegetarian. Someone else can have it,” He reached towards the bowl of the vegetables, “I’ll just eat these.”

She nodded curtly and moved on to the next person. 

“You belong to the richest family in the Wizarding World but you don’t eat meat?” Ginny rolled her eyes and took the extra steak. 

Draco ignored her comment and continued to eat his salad. 

“All the money in the world and they don’t eat the finest steak they can find,” Ron said, 

Once again, Draco ignored the comment and continued to eat. 

“Too rich to talk to us poor people, Malfoy?”

“Ronald!” Mrs. Weasley chided. 

Draco looked at him with a bored expression, “What do you want me to say, Weasley? You’re obviously looking for a fight that I want no part of, why would I reply?” 

Draco watched Ronald’s ears turn bright red as he took a large scoop of his mashed potatoes. 

“Have some respect, won’t you? We’re the ones doing actual work inside this house while you sleep all day.” Ginny came to her brother’s defense. 

“Enough, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley said. 

Draco sighed and grabbed a glass of water but promptly dropped it. The burning pain in his arm was so bad it made his vision go black for a couple of seconds. 

“Fuck, sorry. My arm it just— argh,” he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm because the burning wouldn’t stop, “I got the Dark Mark yesterday and I can’t do anything with my arm. It just hurts so bad.” 

The room was dead silent as Draco fumbled for the napkins. He felt his cheeks starting to get red from embarrassment and he wanted nothing more than to disappear. He steadied his breaths and regained his composer and continued to clean up his mess.  _ Malfoys don’t get embarrassed.  _

“Here, let me help,” Sirius took the napkins from him and finished wiping up the rest of the water. 

The table was quiet for the rest of the dinner. Draco finished eating before everyone else and he got up to get ready for the next Death Eater meeting. 

He walked out the door but stalled for a moment by the stairway to see if they said anything about him. 

“How do we know he’s not pretending? He’s not even sixteen and he has the mark,” Ronald said. The voices were muffled but he could still feel the venom behind the words. 

“He’s working with Snape, the two of them are probably doing this for their own good. The minute we start losing they’ll surely switch sides,” he could hear Ginny say. 

“Leave him alone,” to Draco’s surprise, Fred Weasley defended him. 

“They crucio him at the meetings, no one in their right mind would ever do that willingly.” George also came to Draco’s defense. 

“He probably lied to you two,” Ron said. 

“Stop fighting about it and finish your dinners. No good eating a cold meal,” Arthur Weasley said. 

Draco could tell that deep down Arthur agreed with Ronald and Ginny. The man had been throwing him wary glances multiple times throughout the dinner. But could he blame them? He’d been terrible to his children and said awful things about the man’s family. Draco always knew, deep down, that he didn’t agree with anything he was told to say. His parents had always drilled it into his head that their family was better than others, they were superior. Whether it was because of wealth or because of blood purity. There was always a reason why. But did Draco agree with them? That was a different story. His first thought was what he was told to think, but the second was what he actually felt. And Draco’s second thoughts were always in good heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know why i made draco vegetarian. i've just always had this weird headcannon that he was. don't be afraid to leave comments, i love hearing from all of you!

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys hope u like it will be updating not consistently for sure haha lololol


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